


Sleeping Pains

by Delmorcha



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, But I need my angst too., Cause the Adora and Catra sleeping in the same bed rocks., F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I swear there's going to be a happy ending, sleep problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delmorcha/pseuds/Delmorcha
Summary: There was something missing, always missing when Catra went to bed. She can't put a finger on it and it's been driving her mad for months now. She's starting to crack and it's only a matter of time before she starts to show. If she wants to stay as Hordak's right-hand woman, she'll need to get her sleeping problems under control.  Luckily, she has just the thing in the cells of the Frightzone.I.E: Catra finds out that Adora makes an excellent sleep aid.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	1. So It Starts

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Thanks so much for taking the time to read this. I finished binging watching She-Ra a couple of days ago and now I need more so BAM! Here's my first ever fanfiction piece. Enjoy!

Catra is pacing. 

She was doing a lot of that lately for a variety of reasons, most of which she could deal with by punching something or yelling at someone. This time was different though. 

Rather than outright agitation (an emotion that was quickly becoming as familiar to her as her own heartbeat) Catra was roiling with any numbering of feelings. Anger, confusion, elation, fear, a few others she couldn't put a finger on but was determined to ignore anyway by focusing on a single thought: _I have her._

The runaway, the traitor, the Alliance's greatest weapon, the legendary She-Ra herself. She was sitting in a cell, her sword hanging on the wall in Entrapta's lab while the geek got ready to pick apart its secrets.

The whole thing had been a fluke, of course. Catra had read and reread the report a dozen times and she still couldn't bring herself to believe it. The dynamic trio of Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle had been out delivering supplies to an outpost when they stumbled across Adora heading somewhere to do something. The girl-wonder had wiped the floor with Lonnie and Rogelio in seconds. She didn't even need to transform. That's when Kyle, fumbling, bumbling Kyle who couldn't tell one end of a stun baton from the other, tazed Adora from behind.

It had been an accident. He'd been to busy trying to get the stun baton out of the truck to have been any help in the fight. He was just rounding the corner to help the other two when he ran into Adora and knocked her out cold. They brought the blonde back to the Frightzone, threw her into a cell, and Catra gave them a week's worth of rations.

And now Hordak's second-in-command is pacing.

She's pacing and her best friend turned mortal enemy is in a cell a few stories beneath her feet. This was the last thing she wanted and the first thing she dreamed about. It was a curse in one hand and a blessing in the other. Adora has been there for a few days now. Catra used every excuse under the smog covered sun to avoid going down there and she's run out. Hordak wants Adora interrogated. 

He wants Catra to do it. 

Catra hasn't slept since they had brought the insufferably uptight hero in. Then again, her troubles with sleeping had started long before that.

Sucking in a breath and steeling a resolve she isn't certain she has, Catra starts down the hall to the elevator. The doors shudder open and a few troops stop mid-conversation to stare at her like she was the last thing they had expected to see that day. 

"Off. Now," she growls at them. They jump at the command and scurry out with a hurried 'yes ma'am, sorry ma'am' thrown her way

The doors close and Catra sucks in a deep breath. Tap, tap, tap goes her foot on the floor until she notices her reflection in a particularly shiny spot on the wall.

Her hair is crazier than normal with little knots shooting out at random. There were bags under her eyes and a smudge on her cheek. She rakes her hands through her hair in a failed attempt to manage it into something halfway presentable. She wipes at the smudge which only makes it worse and it's when she's about to rub her eyes that she stops.

_The hell am I doing?_

The obvious answer is that she's grooming herself. Less obvious is why. It's probably something to do with the feelings bouncing around in her head like a pinball. She drops her hands a bit to fast to be casual and narrows her eyes like she's about to give her reflection an earful when the elevator lurches. 

She's arrived.

The walk to the cell is a bit of a blur. Catra keeps picking at her hair like that will magically rein it in. She's _still_ picking at it when she comes to a stop before the cell, a layer of transparent green energy the only thing between her and her and...

And she doesn't know what to do. The cell is dark, dirty (it probably hasn't been cleaned since Catra and Adora were kids), and Adora is chained to the wall. Chained to the wall and looking terrible. There were scratches on her face, dirt _everywhere_ , and her hair hung in a greasy mess around her shoulders. Her eyes are closed and she's breathing slow. 

Catra's first thought is that it can't be comfortable having her arms above her head like that. Her second thought is berating herself for the first one. Adora is a prisoner of war. It doesn't matter how comfortable she is, only that she answers Catra's questions. 

But then those feelings rear their ugly little heads, the ones she's doesn't name or address because that would make them real, to real, and right now she can still pretend they don't exist. It's a pretty lie, or so she tells herself.

She clears her throat, but Adora doesn't move. There's no change to her breathing, no twitch of her eyes. A pang of not-worry shoots through Catra and she keys in the code to drop the energy field.

Catra hesitates. She shouldn't, but she does. Maybe it's the lump in her throat. Maybe it's the way her heart is hammering away in her chest. Or maybe it was the fact she hadn't slept in 48 hours. She was going to have to stop blowing off those medical checkups.

She steps inside, bare feet padding on the cold, metal floor and a shiver runs up her spine. She crouches down in front of Adora and studies the blonde. _She looks worse up close._

That's to be expected, though. A couple of days rotting in prison would have that effect on anyone in it. The cuts are deeper than they'd first appeared and this close Catra could hear how labored Adora's breathing is. Her eyebrows pinch together, her breathing hitches and she whimpers, "Catra...don't..."

 _A nightmare?_ Catra let herself feel a twisted sort of satisfaction at that. It felt good knowing that, even in her dreams, Adora couldn't escape from her. That's what she wants to believe at the very least. That she takes pleasure in Adora's pain. That it feels good knowing her ex-bunkmate is suffering.

"Oh, Adora," She purrs in a low voice as she ever so gently reaches up to drag the tip of one claw down the side of the princess's face, following the curve of her jaw. She just reaches Adora's chin when, "Please...don't...don't leave me."

Catra freezes, claw still resting on Adora's skin. Something inside of her, something she was sure she killed a year ago, twists in a way that it shouldn't. She can't breathe. She feels a cold sweat start on her forehead that's quickly followed with an all too familiar white-hot rage. 

It's comforting in it's familiaity. Like an old wound acting up years after it's healed. 

Her jaw clenches so hard she might crack a tooth as her pupils narrow to slits and her ears flatten against her skull.

"I'm not the one who left," she spat, dropping her hand to her knee and it must have been louder than she meant because Adora woke up.

Sky-blue eyes crack open, hazy and confused, and then screw shut when Adora tries to move. She cries out in pain as she flexes her arms. Something slithers in Catra's stomach and she isn't sure she likes the feeling.

Adora forces her eyes up again, blinks away the bleariness, and settles on Catra. She was never any good at hiding her emotions. Even years with the Rebellion hadn't given Adora a better poker face and Catra was a master at reading it.

First came an unbridled relief that washes over her face and fills her eyes. She moves forwards, tries to move forward, with Catra's name on her lips when the cuffs stop her. Then there's confusion followed quickly by realization. The smile slips from her face and she falls back against the wall, her eyes dropping to the floor. 

If Catra didn't know any better she'd swear she was disappointed to see the change in Adora's mood.

The two sit there in a silence that drags on long enough to make Catra feel awkward, but she's found herself facing the same problem from before. What the hell is she supposed to ask?

What are Brightmoon's defenses like?   
Where are most of the troops stationed?  
Why did you leav-

Her mind reels for a moment as panic flashes across her face. It's gone in a heartbeat and Catra is silently grateful Adora was looking away when it happened. 

It comes as a startling realization that she can't do this. 

Facing Shadowweaver was no problem. Kidnapping princesses, attacking Brightmoon, leaving Adora to die in the First One's temple, all this and more she'd done because she had been clearheaded and focused. 

But now...

She shakes her head and stands, the motion startling Adora enough that she jumps and looks up to find Catra's mismatched eyes with her own. 

Catra expects defiance in those eyes. Anger, even. Hate. All she sees is pain and something tears in her chest. Something soft and sheltered from the storm that's been raging since she was a kid. Something precious.

Without a word, Catra undoes Adora's shackles. Adora sucks in a breath of pain as her arms drop to her sides. She rubs where the cuffs had rubbed her skin raw as she watches Catra with a well-earned weariness. 

Catra doesn't say anything as she walks out of the cell and turns the force field back on. She doesn't say anything to anyone as she meanders through the halls, her feet carrying her along without any true destination in mind.

She finds herself outside on the railing she and Adora would visit every so often years ago. She leans against the rusted railing and looks out over the broken landscape that is the Frightzone. 

She draws in a deep breath and she holds it until she can't think anymore. Until the only thought in her head is _this is going to be a long night._


	2. A Small Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all and thanks for reading! I can't tell you how happy I am that so many of you like the story so far. So without further ado, here's chapter 2!

"Hey, wildcat, you look terrible!"

The first part of that sentence was filled with Scorpia's trademark boundless joy at seeing Catra. The next part was worried in that way that mothers worry over their kids. 

If Catra was in a better mood, she'd have shrugged off Scorpia's concern. If she were in a worse mood, she'd snap and then feel guilty later for snapping. As it stands, she's just too tired to do either of those things. There's no energy left in her to care one way or the other.

"I'm fine," she lies in what she hopes is a smooth way of brushing off Scorpia's concern. She turns away from the Frightzone's very own princes only to come face-to-way with its resident mad genius. She squawks in surprise and stumbles backward into Scorpia who catches her before she falls to the floor, her pincers under Catra's arms. 

Entrapta doesn't take the hint.

Undeterred, she follows Catra closely, her recorder held by her hair as she scrutinizes Catra's face. "Personel log 65: Catra appears to be suffering from acute sleep-deprivation. Perhaps a stronger dose of herbal medication?"

Catra can't suppress the shudder that runs up her spine. Entrapta's home-brewed 'herbal sleep aid' had only made her sleeping problems worse. "Hell no," she growls without any bite. "I'm _not_ doing that again."

She tries to pull herself out of Scorpia's arms but either the larger woman was deliberately angling her arms up to make it hard or Catra was weaker than she thought because she doesn't get anywhere. There's a dull ache in her bones and her heart is hammering sluggishly in her chest and moving around only makes the two issues worse.

Scorpia leans forward so she can look down at Catra, her eyes swimming with concern.

"Is it the nightmares?" She asks quietly like she's afraid Catra will get mad at her. Catra feels a small wave of guilt wash over her. _This is what you get for not controlling your anger._

She sucks in a sigh.

The nightmares. A part of her wishes she'd never brought them up, but she had been tired and frustrated and Scorpia wouldn't stop nagging so she let it slip. They came in threes, her own personal trio of hell running on repeat every night. 

The first is simple enough. She's in Hordak's lab, the walls painted red, and the air hums with energy. His weird atmospheric device is on and she can't breathe even as he stands in front of her like it's nothing, red eyes boring into hers with the cold indifference that makes the blood run cold. She's dying, she knows she's dying, and a fear rips through so hard she wakes up in a cold sweat and her heart slamming against her ribs hard enough that she thinks it's trying to break free.

The second is worse, but not by much. She's a kid again and she can't move. Oily shadows coil around her arms and legs and Shadow Weaver is whispering in her ears. _Pathetic. Failure. You'll never be good enough. You'll never be worth it._ When she wakes up from this nightmare she's dug deep gouges into her bed and ripped her pillow to shreds. Hate like liquid metal flows through her veins, every muscle tense to point of breaking, and she can taste copper in her mouth.

They aren't so bad, she tells herself. She can use them as fuel to make herself better, stronger. They forced her to reach for the top cause that's the only place she'll ever be safe. Fear is life's greatest motivator to survive and rage makes one hell of an anesthetic. 

It's the last nightmare she can't figure out how to use. It's hazy like she's watching it through a fog. There's fire and smoke, a village burning around her as people scream. She sees dirty blonde hair and eyes so blue she never needed the sky and she wakes up feeling...empty. Hollow. Her guts are twisted into so many knots she can't begin to undo them.

She's been having that one a lot, lately.

"Maybe," she admits as she pointedly avoids Scorpia's eyes. 

"How long?" Entrapta asks. She sounds distracted and Catra can hear the tap, tap, tap of her fingers on a datapad.

 _'Since Adora left.'_ is the truth. "Since I moved into my own room," is her answer. It isn't a lie, not entirely, but the guilt of it still nags at her.

Entrapta hums. Scorpia looks between the two and makes no move to let go of Catra and honestly, Catra is too lethargic to try to extract herself. Scorpia had a comforting kind of warmth that's seeping into her back in way Catra finds oddly relaxing. 

"Maybe it's a change in scenery?" Entrapta asks. "I had difficulty sleeping my first few nights in the Frightzone."

"Oh, yeah! Maybe you miss the barracks?" Catra huffs a sigh even as the corner of her lip twitches. As annoying as Scorpia's endless optimism can get, it was...nice in a way Catra would never admit aloud."We could move your old bunk into your room!"

Catra closes her eyes and drops her head back against Scorpia's chest. "Already did that," she says and this time it's the whole truth. She'd had Kyle and Rogelio haul the bunk to her room a week after she moved in. She'd spent all of an hour in the top bed before slipping to the bottom one. It had worked for a week and then...

"Perhaps the problem is sensory?" 

Catra cracks open a blue eye to give Entrapta the _'the fuck are you talking about?'_ look. 

"The five senses," Entrapta looks up, catches the look, and hurries to explain. "Taste, touch, sight, sound, smell. Something about your new room is lacking the proper stimulus for you to fall asleep. I think it's most likely smell. Your nose is incredibly sensitive."

Catra nearly retorts that everywhere in the Frightzone smells the same (old, decaying, like it had been built on a fresh corpse that wasn't so fresh anymore) when an idea pops into her head. It's a terrible idea. The worst she's ever had and she will not, under any circumstances, entertai-

****

 _What are you doing?_ Hisses a voice in the back of her head like she's about to make the worst decision of her life.

 _Making the worst decision of my life,_ she bites back as she stalks through the prison, a buddle of clothes tucked under her arm. Guards and cadets all but jump out of her way as they know better than to be standing between her and where ever she's going.

She's at the cell before that whisper can convince her to turn tail and run. She stops, just like before, and she's racked with an uncharacteristic uncertainty. 

She has a plan (albeit a stupid one), but she's not sure she can follow through. 

Adora is laying on the ground. She's resting on her side, her jacket rolled up and punched into the shape of a makeshift pillow under her head, and she's facing the wall opposite of Catra. 

Catra knows from experience that the floor isn't comfortable and a weight settles in her stomach. 

Biting her lip, she punches in the code, and the cell's field drops. Adora must not have been sleeping because she bolts up into a sitting position. She whirls around, her eyes wide and settling on Catra. 

The first thought in Catra's mind is that Adora looks about as bad as she feels. There are dark circles under her eyes, the color is drained from her cheeks, and her eyes are bloodshot. A few strands of hair are plastered to her forehead with sweat and Catra's ears can pick up the ragged sound of her breathing.

She looks tired. She looks like there's a weight laid out on her shoulders that she's rapidly losing the strength to carry.

_Guess I'm not the only one not getting enough sleep._

"Catra? What-?" And that's all Adora gets out before Catra beans her in the face with the clothes. Adora sputters indignantly like she used to when they were kids and Catra strangles the voice in her head telling her to tease Adora more because the way her nose scrunches up is too cute to resist. 

Adora jerks the clothes off her face and glares down at them before her eyes flash back up to Catra, questioning. 

"You reek," Catra answers as nonchalantly as she can manage in spite of the sweat building on her palms. Her tail flicks behind her in agitation. "I can't interrogate you if I can't stand being in your cell for more than five minutes at a time."

Her prisoner looks less than convinced, but her eyes drift down to clean clothes. They were the same shade of gray all around, baggy, ill-suited for movement, but they were clean and that's enough to get her to change. Catra can see the debate going on in Adora's head. Keep her old, grimy clothes on and smell like shit or change them out for something unfamiliar and probably a lot more comfortable. It doesn't take her long to decide.

She stands and starts to tug at her white compression shirt when she stops, eyes flicking to Catra. 

"You, uh...are you going to stand there and watch me?" She asks and Catra has to fight to keep her expression neutral. No easy task when her breath catches in her throat because _fuck, I didn't think of that when I came down here._

She folds her arms over her chest and cocks a hip, her tail swaying behind her. "Sure am," she smirks like it's the easiest thing in the world. "I'm not about to let you knock me out with my back turned. Besides, it's not like I haven't seen you before."

And it wasn't. 

Privacy wasn't valued in the Horde. Not in the barracks, not in the locker room, and certainly not in the showers. Catra has seen pretty much everything Adora has to offer and vise versa. 

The two stare at one another, neither giving an inch, before Adora huffs a sigh. "Fine. Do what you want," she mutters as she grabs the edge of her shirt with both hands and pulls up and _holy fucking shit Adora is ripped._

Catra keeps it together just long enough for Adora to pull her shirt up over her eyes. As soon as they break contact, Catra turns her head to the side to glare at a warp on the wall because she knows for a fact she won't be able to stop herself from staring.

What she doesn't know is why she's so surprised that Adora has abs that you could use as a cheese grater. 

It had always been an unspoken fact: Catra was the thinner of the two, lithe, her body built for speed and flexibility and she excels in capitalizing on both. Adora was wider, stronger like she'd been engineered to be a living tank that could take a hit and give it back in the same breath.

She's always had more muscle mass and better definition than Catra so it shouldn't be the least bit surprising and yet she can't get the image out of her head.

A part of her, one she'd indulge late at night when the rest of the Frightzone had fallen asleep and she didn't need to worry about anyone interrupting her, was all abuzz with excitement and Catra could feel the heat rising to her face.

 _Fuck me,_ she groans internally. 

_Or you could get Adora to do it. She is_ _ **right**_ _there._

Catra ignores that though and she keeps her eye fixed on the wall with one ear turned to Adora. She tells herself it's to be sure Adora isn't going to try anything funny and she very nearly convinces herself that that's the truth. Her ear twitches with sounds of cloth hitting the floor only to be kicked away as Adora dresses.

A few minutes tick by and Catra's claws are starting to leave crescent shapes on her arms. The rustling of clothes stops and Adora coughs to get Catra's attention.

"There, happy?"

Catra turns back to her, a _'Not in your dreams.'_ on her tongue when the words die in her mouth. Her throat goes dry and it takes all she has to keep from sucking in a breath.

The clothes are about as baggy as Catra anticipated them being, but not in the way she was expecting. The pants hugged Adora's waist before billowing out into wide legs that bunch up on the top of her feet. The shirt nearly swallows the blonde whole, the sleeves coming down far enough that only her fingertips are visible and the collar of the shirt wide enough that one side keeps slipping down, baring Adora's shoulder no matter how much effort she puts into to holding it up.

Adora looks frumpled. She looks irresistibly warm and cozy. She looks cu-

_Nope. No, not continuing that line of thinking._

Catra shifts her eyes back to the wall. "Yeah. Fine."

The silence stretches between them and it's growing wider with the second. Catra can't get her mind together long enough to form a cohesive train of thought. She should say something, do something, but she keeps drawing a blank.

Eventually, Adora is the one to break the silence.

"So what now?" She demands more than asks, her voice strained.

Catra's ear flicks and when she looks back at Adora all she sees is resignation. Adora's shoulders sag and she's looking at the floor. She looks smaller in those clothes than she did before and it suddenly feels wrong. It feels like this isn't the Adora Catra had grown up with, who she fought with, who she loved and hated so many times she isn't sure what she should feel anymore. 

_What now?_

After so many years, Catra doesn't know the answer to that question. She should interrogate Adora, question her on the Rebellion and the princess alliance, but there's a different question that's been slipping in and out of her heard since Adora was captured in the first place.

"What were you doing in the Whispering Woods?"

The effect is immediate. Adora goes rigid and she crosses her arms over her chest and bites down on her bottom lip. Catra knows the stance. It's the same one Adora adopted when they were younger and she didn't want to answer one of Catra's questions about something personal, something too close to her mind.

"What does it matter to you?" Adora spits and it feels like she's run Catra through with a knife. 

_What did you expect? That she'd confide in you? After everything you've done?_

Catra tries to force down the lump in her throat. She shuffles on her feet and then gets angry at herself for shuffling. It's short-lived though and it gives her the beginnings of a migraine. This isn't going how she thought it would and she's too tired to pretend like it isn't getting to her.

She drops her gaze. "Look, you don't want me here any more than I want to be here so just...give me something to report back to Hordak so I can leave."

She meant to come off as irritated and annoyed, but her tone lacks any heat.. Adora must have picked up on it.

"I couldn't sleep," she finally mutters and if Catra's ears hadn't been so sensitive she might not have heard her. "So I went for a walk. That enough for you?"

There's a bitterness laced through Adora's voice as she leans back against the wall. She's running on empty just like Catra and she slumps to the ground and hugs her knees to her chest.

Something in Catra, a logical something, is telling her she needs to leave. She should walk away, keep her distance before she does something stupid. 

But she doesn't.

Catra is tired and the walls she's spent so long building around her heart, walls she's reinforced with every betrayal and every defeat, are breaking apart. She stands in Adora's cell in the bowls of the Frightzonen and she feels small again.

She's isn't Force Captain Catra, Hordak's second-in-command looking down at Adora, She-Ra, the princess of power. She's just a cadet looking at her best friend as she breaks under the weight of too many expectations. An old promise echos in her heart and it hurts too much to ignore.

So she does the only thing she knows to do.

Catra's feet pad softly on the steel floor as she walks over to Adora and lowers herself down next to her, back to the wall and tail wrapped around her legs. There's hardly an inch between them, but it feels like a lifetime of separation.

"Bad dreams?" She asks.

"...yeah."

"What about?"

Adora is silent for a minute, two, three, and Catra wonders if she'll say anything at all.

"It'd only make you angry," Adora whispers so low Catra almost misses it.

Back in the old days, Catra would have bumped her shoulder against Adora's, but now... now it feels like it'd only cross a line that shouldn't be crossed so she shrugs and tilts her head back to the wall.

"Try me." Those are the words, but they aren't what Catra means. She can't bring herself to say what she means. 

_Trust me._

Not that she needs to. Not between them. 

"It's about you," Adora admits and Catra breathes in deep. She should be angry. A month ago and she would be, but right now a month ago doesn't exist. The cell doesn't exist. Every battle and scar fade away in the small room. Nothing exists but her and Adora and whatever this feeling is deep in Catra's chest.

"Can't say I'm surprised." She means for that to come off as a light-hearted joke, but it fails to land if Adora's reaction is anything to go by.

"No, that isnt-" She sucks in a shuddering breath and shakes her head. "I...I'm in a hallway," she starts again, face buried in knees and obscured by her arms, "It's lined with doors and I'm running through it because I'm trying to find you. I know you're there because I can hear you asking me to find you and...and-"

She chokes on the words, swallows, and continues faster than before. "And you sound so scared, Catra, and I can't find you no matter how many doors I open and I can hear you begging me to save you and I can't-"

"Adora-"

"I can't lose you again and you're hurting and I'm not strong enough to-"

"Adora!" Catra grabs Adora's shoulders as she moves around to crouch in front of her. Adora is shaking and she's breathing fast and hard like she can't get enough oxygen, like any minute she's going to drown in nightmare playing out in front of her eyes. 

"Adora, look at me." Sky blue looks up to meet gold and blue and Catra winces at the raw fear filling the,. "You need to calm down and breathe. Like this."

Catra breathes in deep through her nose and out through her mouth. It was a simple thing that Adora had first shown her when they were kids, but it never failed to work in calming her down. She repeats the process as Adora tries to mimic her. She fails the first time and then the second. By the third, she's gotten better and by the sixth, it seems to be working. 

Her breathing evens, her body slowly relaxing beneath Catra's touch. She closes her eyes and Catra lets go of her shoulders, her hands dropping down her arms like they don't want to leave before pulling away entirely.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

 _Don't mention it._ Catra doesn't say that. She can't. The words catch in her throat and she lets them die there because she isn't sure what they mean to her. So she stands, gathers up Adora's old clothes, and walks back to the front of the cell. She stops right at the entrance and she almost looks back.

Almost. 

"I... I'll see about getting you a cot," she says before stepping out and rounding the corner, half-certain that if she stays any longer she'll do something she'll regret later. 

She feels drained as she walks away, like what little energy she's been running on for the past few days has finally run dry. She's barely aware of where she's going. She thinks she's run into Scropia at one point, but everything is starting to blur together. 

The walls. The vents. The soldiers. Reality loses distinction, a dozen thoughts are bouncing around in her mind too fast for her to catch, and it's with a start that she realizes she's somehow made it to her room and into her bed. She's not even sure what time it is. She still has Adora's clothes in arms and she curls around them, burying her face into Adora's jacket and breathing in deep.

Her mind stills. The tension that's been building in her body starts to loosen and for the first time in years she doesn't dream when she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And once again, thank you all for reading! This ended up a bit longer than I thought it would, but when the drive to write hits you gotta take it for a ride! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and please feel free to drop a comment down below. I use them as fuel to get the creative juices flowing!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it and are as eager to find out what happens next as I am to write it! Of course, any and all comments are welcome! :D


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